


i would even learn how to love

by forgetmenots309



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora Give Catra a Hug PLEASE, Angst, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenots309/pseuds/forgetmenots309
Summary: Catra has a hard time finding her way home.(This follows the plot of She-Ra quite closely so if you haven't finished it, don't spoil yourself!)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 173





	i would even learn how to love

**Author's Note:**

> henlo friends of mara!
> 
> i wrote this because i've fallen down a vortex of catradora. this is mostly just an expanded catra character study because i really adore her + i wanted to explore the feelings that i think she might've had throughout the series BUT i am also a mess and so is my writing lmao
> 
> thank you for stopping by and happy reading ^^

The first time Catra realizes that she wants to kiss Adora, she's fifteen and they've spent their shared childhood training to become full-fledged soldiers in the Horde. It's strange, she thinks, when she lies in her bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for Adora to come back from the bathroom. She grips the blanket tighter to her chest, feels her claws puncturing the old, thin material.

It wasn't like Adora had even done anything out of the ordinary to trigger the response from Catra since it had happened during one of their usual sparring sessions. After the duo had easily taken down their other teammates she and Adora faced off with as much grace in their steps as two fifteen year olds could possess. And when Catra somehow managed to trip over Adora's feet and the two of them were sent tumbling down together with big red X's across their chests signaling shared defeat, Adora just _laughed_. Simple as that. It was the kind of unfiltered laugh where her best friend would snort loudly and slap her knees like that was the funniest thing that had ever happened in the history of the universe.

Instead of her usual grumbling, Catra found herself staring at Adora with a curious tingle in her chest. It wasn't like this was the _first_ time she had seen her best friend laugh like that, given the fact that Adora had the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy and could laugh at just about anything. For some reason, though, this time was different from the rest. It was as if time itself had stopped for that brief moment as Catra stared and quickly lost herself in the curve of Adora's smiling, pink lips, the crinkle of her scrunched nose, and the soft wisps of blonde hair that strayed from her trademark ponytail. It wasn't until Adora had stood up and was offering her a hand to help Catra back up to her feet that she'd snapped out of her Adora-induced daze. That's when Catra actually even took notice of her own response to Adora, the way her fur had bristled and strangest of all, the erratic thundering of her heart.

Catra frowns as the memory of Adora's laughter makes her stomach twist up uncomfortably. It was wholly unnerving to think about the way Adora had made her feel during practice, 1. because she's never had these feelings before and 2. because she doesn't understand what they mean.

Adora's steps are light as she shuffles her way back into the sleeping quarters and even in the pitch black darkness, Catra can make out the sleepy lull in her friend's blue eyes. She knits her eyebrows together. Adora's scent wafts over her as the girl takes her place in the bunk underneath Catra's.

Catra pulls the blanket over her head, digging her nose into the pillow in an attempt to stamp out the overwhelming smell. Her stomach churns.

"Catra?"

The catgirl's ears perk up, fluttering as she grips the blanket tighter.

"What?" comes her muffled reply.

"Are you sleeping up there tonight?" Adora asks, her voice already thick with sleep.

Catra swallows. She wants to say _yes_. She wants to scream _no_. Really, she doesn't know _what_ she wants.

Catra's frown deepens as she throws the blanket off of her body and hops down from her bunk, landing perfectly on her feet next to Adora's bed. The blonde was already wrapped up under her own blanket, eyes closed and mouth hanging comically open. Despite her conflicted emotions, Catra has to smile at that. She leans down and places a finger underneath Adora's chin, closing her mouth for her.

"You're such an idiot," Catra says with a thin laugh, recognizing the warmth rising in her gut to be affection. Adora grunts something in response but it's barely coherent words. Catra pauses, mismatched eyes closely watching her best friend's sleeping form.

Adora.

The only person who's ever made her feel this confused, this awkward, and yet, this safe and... _wanted_.

Catra's frown begs to return but she schools her expression. With careful movements, she curls up at the foot of Adora's bed, closing her eyes and slowly breathing in Adora's scent. It's warm, a chilled sweet scent like peppermint, like always.

Catra falls asleep that night, wondering if Adora has ever felt the same way (or if she ever would).

\-----

The next time Catra realizes that she wants to kiss Adora, it brings her to her knees. Her claws glide through the metal panel like a hot knife through butter and she's shaking so hard, she can't even maintain her breathing anymore. Her breaths come out ragged, lungs failing to draw in enough air to keep her steady and she trembles like a coward in Adora's empty bed.

_"AHHHH!"_ Tears blur her vision as she tears apart the threads holding Adora's pillow together, sending feathers flying haphazardly into the air.

Adora joined the Rebellion. Adora _abandoned_ her. 

Adora was her _enemy_ now.

The thought is so utterly corrosive, Catra's blood ignites to Hellfire and scorches her insides until they're as black as the starless night sky above Etheria. Catra grieves her loss, wild eyes stinging with hot tears as she throws punch after punch against the ruined pillow.

And yet, for all of the anger and pain that she feels, there's one thought that lingers, bolder than the rest, _louder_ than the rest.

Adora is her enemy now but still, Catra wants to kiss her.

Catra's fist suddenly collides with the torn metal, where her drawing of Adora had once been. The sharp edges she had pulled up now rip through her skin, blood pouring from the cuts and dripping down her wrist. She doesn't care. Doesn't even register the pain on her knuckles. She _hates_ Adora. She hates her _so_ much.

_You're lying to yourself_ \- a small voice taunts her.

Catra doesn't hate Adora. No, she... she _loves_ Adora. She loves Adora _so_ much.

Catra hasn't ever loved anyone like this before. And she hasn't ever _lost_ anyone like this before.

She lowers her wounded hand, cradling it against her chest and pulling her teeth together. She had been stupid enough to let herself care, stupid enough to let herself fall, and stupid enough to let herself hurt.

And it _hurts_ but as the days wear on, the Hellfire that had coursed through her veins dulls. Now, the pain is slower, transformed into a dull ache that she can successfully ignore if she doesn't think about it too much. So she spends her days pretending that she hates Adora because maybe if she faked it hard enough, long enough, then just _maybe_ , it'd become the truth. It'd become _her_ truth and she would live it like how Adora was living now, fighting alongside new faces and new friends.

And it's hard to live with the fact Adora has left her but Catra decides that she's going to survive this, in _any_ way that she can.

Revenge just _happens_ to be one of them, Catra supposes. She was going to make Adora suffer and fall. She was going to do whatever it took to lead the Horde to victory, to do what Adora couldn't, to crush the Rebellion beneath her heel, and if the world burned in the process, then so be it. A world where Adora hated her wasn't a world worth saving.

_Let_ the world burn. Let it end in roaring flames, end with _Adora_ , because Catra knows that when the smoke clears and ashes settle, the victory that she'll taste will be sweeter than _anything_ Adora could've given her. Or at least, she tries to make herself believe this. If she doesn't, then there's no way she'll be able to find the courage needed for the plans that she has in mind.

So Catra steels herself, ignores the dull ache in her bones whenever thinks of Adora's blue eyes, and plans for a world where she can quietly watch the sun rise, and where Adora no longer plagues her dreams.

\-----

Scorpia serves as a sore spot for Catra. She has to wonder if Shadow Weaver actually finds _joy_ in making her suffer like this because there's a warmth to Scorpia that Catra _immediately_ notices. Alarm bells sound loudly inside of her skull when she realizes this, the spot in her right temple twisting into a painful throb.

_Adora._

Scorpia's kindness reminds Catra of _Adora_ and that thought alone makes her sick to her stomach. So she actively works to keep Scorpia at arm's length, even when she sees that it only hurts Scorpia and not Adora.

Catra realizes that she might sound bitter this way but she'd be _damned_ before she let herself be burned like that ever again.

_I don't care. Just leave me alone._

She has one goal right now and it's to prove to everyone, to _herself_ , that she's better than Adora. That she doesn't need Adora. That she's _never_ needed Adora.

And during still nights when Adora's clear blue eyes turn dark and sad, like Scorpia's, Catra has to remind herself that she can't afford to be vulnerable. She can't afford to love someone like that ever again.

\----

Memories of Adora haunt Catra everywhere she goes.

Catra is bitter as she stares at the chalky orange glow of the afternoon sun that hangs over the Fright Zone. She places her hand down on the cold metal of the scaffolding, swinging her legs over the edge as she watches smoke rise from the Forge.

The betrayal that Catra tastes when Shadow Weaver escapes is vile, _acrid_ and leaves her nearly lifeless. She lies in bed for days after discovering that the woman had gone missing, wondering how it could've been that she so stupidly allowed for something like that to happen again.

First, Adora. Now, Shadow Weaver.

After the years of mental and emotional trauma she suffered at the hands of her foster mother, one would think that the woman's departure from Catra's life could only be a blessing. But to Catra, it did nothing more than serve as a vicious reminder that she came into this world alone and she would walk in it alone and she would _die_ in it alone.

Just then, the smoke that plumes from the large, bulky stalk of the Forge travels on a quick gust of wind and irritates Catra's nose. She pulls her legs up to her chest, her tail wrapping around her ankles and bites down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, hard enough to keep herself from crying.

From up here, it was easy to see the Fright Zone for all that it is - ugly, smelling of death and decay, and full of rotten people like Hordak and Shadow Weaver - but it's what it _isn't_ that really makes Catra grieve.

The Fright Zone isn't a place for love to be found. It isn't a place for dreams to be fulfilled. And most of all, it isn't a place for people like Adora, who can't be cruel.

But it's where they grew up together and though now, she knows that it had never been a _real_ home, when it had still held Adora's laughter within its rusting, steel walls, it certainly gave off the illusion of one.

But now, Adora's gone and so is Shadow Weaver and only Catra remains to live in this empty husk of memories, haunted by their ghosts.

When the smoke becomes too much, Catra rises to her feet and makes her way back down.

\-----

The Crimson Waste offers Catra her first drink of victory. Suddenly, there are feelings that well up inside of her chest that she hasn't felt in a very long time. Truthfully, it's been so long that she's nearly forgotten this warmth had ever existed within her in the first place. Scorpia's smile makes Catra feel good and for once, she could even say that she's _happy._ Catra is _happy_ for the first time in forever and this gives her hope.

But before she has any time to actually relish in the healing light, Adora's words plunge a hot knife into her chest.

Shadow Weaver left the Fright Zone - left _Catra_ \- for Adora. _Again it's the same. No matter how well I do, no one will see it. No one will see me, with you, here. I'm... I'm_ nothing _when I'm with you._ Catra sees red in that moment. And she doesn't stop seeing red until she pulls the lever on Hordak's machine and plunges the world into destruction.

It corrupts her. No - Catra's _long_ been corrupted, ever since the first time Shadow Weaver decided that she wasn't worth trying for, but falling through the bleak memories of her childhood breaks her in a way that she can't recover from. Her life collects like shattered fragments of glass, cutting her as she picks them up with soft hands. The feelings of love and the feelings of loss. The wish to see Adora's smile again and the desire to sink her claws into Adora's neck. Everything flashes past her like a blinding show. There's so much noise inside her head. She wants it to stop. She wants all of it to stop.

Adora begs her to reconsider, to look at what she'll destroy. But Catra doesn't care, doesn't give a _damn_ about anything else anymore.

And even if deep down, there was still a part of her that wanted to hold Adora in her arms and kiss her until her lips were bruised, Catra knows it's impossible for her - impossible for _them_ \- because there's just too much anguish in her soul, too much despair in always being second rate, that she'd rather die fighting her best friend than let Adora win.

_"You made your choice. Now live with it."_

The portal is meant to ruin Adora, more than anything, but when Catra comes out the other side and when She-Ra - no, when _Adora_ fixes her with blue eyes that shine deeply with resolve, Catra knows that things will _never_ be the same between them again.

\-----

Catra tries to reason with herself when Scorpia finally leaves her.

_This is for the best. I'm alone and it's okay. I'm alone and it's okay. I'm alone and it's okay._

It's a mantra inside of her head. The more she repeats it, the easier it'll be to swallow this bitter pill and the quicker she'll be able to move on from it. (At night she prays, _please let this be true_.)

Catra hates that it still hurts the way it does - to be abandoned like this - but if she never admits to it, no one will be able to use it against her. And though now, there's no one left in the entire universe who cares about her, she'll keep fighting to survive. She'll keep fighting until she dies trying - if not only for spite's sake, then for the sake of the little runt who just couldn't understand _why_ it was that Shadow Weaver couldn't love her.

That day, after much hesitation, Catra returns to Adora's bunk which had remained unoccupied since she left. Catra had forbidden any of the new cadets from taking over the bed though she, herself, had also avoided the space for months.

Now, as she settles down on the thin blanket, there's a tingling sensation that rises in her gut.

In this small corner of the wretched place they once called home, Catra and Adora had shared a warmth with one another that no one else could ever understand. At one point, Catra may have even believed that she couldn't live without it, but now she knows that to be untrue. Still though, this is the one place in the Fright Zone that is left untouched by anyone but Adora - where Catra had probably fallen in love with Adora and her warmth, her kindness, and where she slept dreaming of worlds where Adora loved her back. 

Catra curls up on the blanket. It still faintly smells like Adora so she buries her nose against it and cries.

\-----

"You try _so_ hard to play the big bad villain but your heart's never been in it, has it?"

Double Trouble's never been a friend so much as a business partner but when they come to Catra with a horrible gleam in their eyes, she realizes her mistake too late. She'd let down her guard again and now she was paying the price.

"People have hurt you, haven't they?"

Adora's reflection stands before her, her cheek pressed against Catra's hand. She knows this to be an illusion - a mind game that Double Trouble is playing on her - but she's missed this face _so_ much that for a second, her mind bends and she _swears_ she can almost register that warmth Adora always held against her trembling palm.

_Adora..._

"Didn't need you, left you."

Catra's knees buckle and she collapses, ears pulled back as she stares up at Double Trouble in acute horror. Hateful words clog up in her throat but she's unable to say anything in return.

"But did you ever stop to think maybe _they're_ not the problem?"

Scorpia now stands in front of her - the culmination of all of her failures as a soldier, as a person, as a friend.

"It's _you_. You drive them away, wildcat."

Their words punch a hole right through Catra's gut. And though there's almost no more novelty in being betrayed, it still feels like her skin is being peeled from her flesh when she's suddenly faced with a feeling that she's never bothered to give any weight to and tried so very hard to ignore: _guilt_.

Catra leans back against the rubble, and wonders why it was that she was ever even born.

\-----

There's a certain quality to Horde Prime that Catra instantly recognizes. He's devoid of love, cold, narcissistic, power-hungry. All of these are things that Shadow Weaver is. Catra's had experience with people like this before. She's prepared. She'll work her way up the ranks like she did back on Etheria. Tempting fate, pushing her luck, grasping at straws. Call it what you will. Anything, even swearing allegiance to Horde Prime, is better than confessing to the guilt that has slowly been poisoning her veins.

"The Horde's the Horde, even in space."

But Glimmer sees right through her and it makes her angry. 

When had she become so transparent?

"Fucking Sparkles," Catra snarls as she hurls the pillow across her bedroom in her irritation. She holds her head in her hands, eyebrows creased together as she tries to focus all of her attention on anything other than what Glimmer had said to her.

_"Is that really what you want?"_

Catra realizes that she has no real answer for this question. Not anymore at least, since Double Trouble had gutted her with mere words, effectively pulling apart her ribcage back and baring her insides for the world to see.

Catra has never felt this lost before, not since Adora left.

_What do I want?_

Catra brings her knees up to her chest to keep herself from shaking. She focuses her attention. She _needs_ to answer this, not for Glimmer or Horde Prime, but for herself.

Blue eyes haunt her tonight as well but this time, they're not as pained or scared as they usually are. This night, her dream of Adora is kind and sweet. Adora wears a white dress with gold accents and looks at Catra like she's in _love_ with her.

And when Catra wakes up the next morning, she can barely find enough strength to even get out of bed.

\-----

As the days go by, Catra's guilt becomes a festering wound. Ignoring the mounting anguish in her heart had only made things worse for her and had caused her to make a lot of admittedly terrible choices. But running away from her feelings was one of Catra's strong suits - something that Shadow Weaver had unfortunately taught her to do well. So instead of entering the pits for herself, Catra takes a seat back, and quietly ruminates over Horde Prime's work.

She's always liked to survey her environment from a higher perspective. Call it instinct but Catra likes to know what she's dealing with. From above, it was easy to see things for what they were. When she was with the Horde, she had the scaffolding and the Fright Zone was ugly and cruel. Now, she has this alien ship, and the universe is unfair and unforgiving.

She watches the mess of explosions that ripple across the surface of the planet with disgust rising in her chest. To think that once, this destruction was something that Catra might've even been happy to see, if it could guarantee Adora's suffering; she's ashamed.

Catra thinks of all the lives lost, all of the people who died, drowning in their regret - people who didn't even get a chance to redo or atone or even just _confess_ to their shame before they perished. All of these nameless souls would now be lost to oblivion with no one to remember them.

And from her new vantage point, observing the worlds that burn down below like an unholy God, Catra reaches the truth, or rather, two unwavering truths that run parallel on the palms of her hands, staining them in streaks of red and gold.

Truth number one: she's a coward. She's always been a coward and she'll die a coward on this ghost ship full of hateful eyes and become one of those nameless souls that she's pitied, if she doesn't do something soon. 

Truth number two: it doesn't matter if Adora ever loves her back or not. Catra's _always_ loved Adora and she'll never stop loving Adora, even when Catra hates her, and even if Adora hates her.

\-----

"What would you do if you were back on Etheria?" Glimmer asks her, the seemingly innocent question hurting Catra more than she knows is intended.

"There's... nothing for me back on Etheria," she answers truthfully, shrinking into herself.

Catra has always felt like there was no true place for her to belong, even on Etheria. Growing up, she didn't think of the Horde as a home so much as it was a _means_ to an end, an end which she had thought she would be able to share with Adora. Cadets were trained to lay their lives down for the cause but truthfully speaking, Catra never gave a damn about it. All she cared about was carving out a place in the world for herself, by Adora's side.

"I'm _always_ gonna be your friend," the memory of a young, blue-eyed Adora tells her. Even when she was sporting those scratches on her face that were put there by Catra's insecurities, Adora still chose to stand by her side.

_The only true home I've ever known had walls built out Adora's laughter. Adora cared me about and I fucked that up and she'll die thinking that I_ hate _her if I don't make this right._

Catra's small frame shakes, quivers with regret, and trembles like an impending storm. She's lost Adora once before. She won't ever lose her again.

Horde Prime will most likely kill her for saving Glimmer but Catra's prepared to die - resolved to it, even. In a lifetime of failures, if she could do just _one_ good thing, if she could save Adora from Horde Prime, then maybe she wouldn't be _completely_ worthless like everything's made her believe. (Maybe, there would be a reason for her to have had to suffer like this.)

And if Catra does this, then perhaps, one day, her old best friend might be able to think about her and not look so torn up inside anymore and Catra's aching soul could finally be put sleep on a bed of flowers painted the color of Adora's laugh.

\-----

_"Just listen!"_ Catra begs. _"Adora, I'm sorry!"_

(1. I'm sorry that I never told you how much you meant to me before you left.

2\. I'm sorry that I wasn't a better friend to you when you were still with me.

3\. I'm sorry that I kept trying to hurt you and the people that you love.

4\. I'm sorry that I blamed you for everything.

5\. I'm sorry that I was so cruel to you.

6\. I'm sorry that I'm such a fuck up.

7\. I'm sorry that I ever met you and you ever met me.

8\. I'm sorry that I love you.

9\. I'm sorry that I won't ever be able to tell you that I love you.

10\. I'm sorry that I won't ever be able to say goodbye.)

_"For everything!"_

Catra isn't used to apologizing but when she finally does, she knows that it doesn't matter what Horde Prime does to her. She's ready.

\-----

Catra's body is no longer hers but she still sees and feels everything that happens. She can smell Adora's blood on her claws and it makes her sick to her stomach. This isn't how things were supposed to go. Adora was supposed to take Glimmer and run as far away as she could so why did she foolishly come back for a girl that didn't matter?

Each strike that Catra lands on Adora's body is agonizing. Catra screams but nothing comes out.

"I don't want to hurt you!" Adora cries, begging for Catra to stop.

"But you _have_ already hurt me."

When Horde Prime takes control of her body, Catra feels ice inside her veins. The chip on her skin pulses like another heartbeat that threatens to drown out her own. Horde Prime is a monster and now, he sees every single thought, every single memory, every single feeling that Catra has ever had and it makes his lips curl into a wretched smile.

_You think I'm a monster? Oh but you're_ much _crueler than me, Catra,_ she can hear him say with a sneer on his lips. _The things you've wished for - the things you've wanted to do to your Adora - Now, what would she say if she knew them? Your deepest, ugliest, desires? What would she say?_

The ice inside her turns to electricity. Horde Prime's control yields for a moment and suddenly, it's Catra again, her mismatched eyes brimming with tears as she stares up at the stupid blonde girl she loves so much. "Adora, you should've stayed away. _Why_ did you come back?" she asks earnestly, her voice cracking like thunder. "We both know I don't matter."

Adora doesn't hesitate even a single second before she answers, her palm cupping Catra's cheek with the tenderness that Catra's dreamt of for months now. "You matter to _me_."

Catra closes her eyes. The chip hums and the ice inside of her stirs but so does something else. Light.

The last thing she remembers is falling. 

\-----

The next time Catra wakes up, she's on another ship that she doesn't recognize and there's a split second of fear before she registers the warmth enveloping her body. It's Adora. She's in Adora's arms.

"Hey... Adora." 

Adora looks down at Catra, her blue eyes swimming with a thousand different emotions that make it hard for Catra to look away. They'd seen each other countless times now since the day everything fell apart for them and in each of those instances, Adora was always playing some new, foreign role that made it hard for Catra to remember anything else but the pain of losing her.

But right now, the girl staring down at Catra isn't Adora, the hero or Adora, the enemy or even Adora, the traitor. No, in this moment, she's simply _Adora_ , Catra's best friend (and the girl she wants to kiss).

_I've missed you so much,_ Adora's eyes speak silently. Catra has no time to respond before Adora pulls her into a sweet embrace. Catra falls apart and then, is made anew, bathed in Adora's light.

_I'm home._


End file.
